It's Called Sex
by Houseketeer
Summary: Set the day after House eats the Macadamia pancakes. Wilson gets an eyeful House and Cameron do it for the second time.HouseCameron, smut.


**It's Called Sex**

Wilson rubbed his eyes as he walked into House's kitchen to make breakfast. He learned his lesson yesterday; today he'd make double of everything he wanted to eat. Let House steal half, at least he'd get some too. What he saw in the kitchen caused him to rub his eyes again. Dr. Cameron, making coffee, in House's faded The Who concert tee.

"So I hear you make these amazing pancakes," she said as she handed him a mug. "Black right? Where does he keep the sugar?"

"Um, the middle canister there. What are you doing here?"

"Having coffee." She turned and poured a third mug and sweetened it as House ambled in.

"Ooo, was this going to be coffee in bed?" House walked up behind Cameron. He wrapped his left arm around her waist, kissed her neck, and took the mug from her hand in one smooth motion. He whispered in her ear, "Nice surprise," then sipped. She turned to face him and kissed him with more overt eroticism than seven am strictly called for.

Mid-kiss, House opened his eyes to peer around Cameron at Wilson. Standing on tiptoe, the shirt had ridden up revealing a glimpse of her ass. House's hand slipped down from her waist and tugged the t-shirt, showing Wilson exactly what he'd scored. He broke the kiss, "Stop perving and make us pancakes."

"Maybe I should grab a shower," Cam suggested as she snuck under House's arm, attempting to escape.

"Maybe _we_ should grab a shower," House said as he grabbed her bicep, her arm sliding through his grip until he caught her by the wrist.

"No, you stay and have coffee," she said, meaningfully.

House let her go, then turned to Wilson. "Seriously, pancakes."

"What did you _do_?!"

"It's called sex. I know this will come as a shock, but you can actually do that with**out** an exchange of rings. Which you should try by the way. Soon."

"I'm living on your couch, it's not exactly conducive. So you guys are together now?"

"No, she's in the shower. Keep up Jimmy." He opened the fridge. "Which of all this nonsense you bought turns into macadamia pancakes?"

"You know what I meant. And no pancakes!"

"Well I don't have a waffle iron."

"No _breakfast_ of any kind! How did this happen?"

"You went to medical school. The male reproductive organ, the penis—"

"Stop playing games," Wilson interrupted. "Fine, you won't tell me. Do you at least have a plan for work?"

"It didn't even occur to me to have sex at work. What, in broad daylight in the office?"

Wilson had to laugh. "You're impossible." He shook his head, chagrined. "I forgot how cocky you get when you're getting some." 

"Speaking of which, it would be cool if you went to work early today," House dropped nonchalantly.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Cafeteria food _again_ today. You owe me big."

"Hey, the front stoop might turn out to be more comfortable than the couch."

Wilson didn't rise to the bait this time. "If you hustle you can catch her naked and wet." House followed him to the front door, as if to ensure he left.

"I don't need the pretense of a shower to get her naked and wet," he said, and shut the door on Wilson's shocked face.

He walked to the bathroom. There he found her naked, foot propped on the edge of the tub, drying her long, slim legs. She looked up at him through a curtain of dripping wet hair.

She smiled and dropped the towel. She turned and picked up from the counter top a can of mousse and a hairdryer. "These can't really be yours."

"Wilson." 

She raised her eyebrows. "I guess his hair can't feather itself." He took Wilson's beauty products from her and replaced them on the counter. Then he pulled her roughly against him for a deep, sexy kiss. "Wait, House, I'm all wet," she protested. 

"Then I don't have to wait." He slid his hand down her body. The tips of his fingers parted her; brushed her clit. She moaned and grabbed fistfuls of his shirt as he forced his middle finger into her.

The open door caught her attention. "Is he still here?" she whispered.

Watching her face as he did so, he slowly pulled out his finger, then plunged in two as he said, "No, he left for work."

"Good. Although it was pretty hot last night, knowing he was right outside the door."

The pad of House's thumb rubbed against her clit. "We could do it on his couch," was his whispered suggestion.

Cameron's hips jerked against his hand. "_Yes_," she hissed.

House brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them into his mouth; pulled them out clean. "After you." He followed her to the living room, where she paused. "Pick a pose," he said.

Cameron crawled onto the couch and moved to the far end, kneeling with her left knee on the seat while she lifted the other up to rest on the sofa's back. Then she bent forwards over the arm, her belly resting on Wilson's pillow. She braced herself with her palms on the floor.

His eyes flicked closed; she couldn't be more be more alluring. He quickly stripped, and moved to kneel behind her, right leg draped over the couch's back. He gripped her hips and sank into her, and was rewarded by Cameron's yelled "oh_god_!" The position put no weight at all on his right leg—_'why didn't __**I**__ think of that'_—allowing him to fuck her harder, faster, and deeper than he'd experienced since the infarction, and he took full advantage. "Oh_fuck_," she moaned.

"Good?"

"So…fucking…good," she gasped.

He'd had a his best night sleep in months and a large mug of coffee, and now brand new position. "I feel like I could fuck you all day long."

Every thrust was hitting Cameron's g-spot, she was so close to coming she could only manage to groan, "_Work_…"

"Somehow I don't think your boss will mind," he said.

Cameron's moans became more insistent, and he felt her flutter and spasm around his hard cock as he fucked her. He slowed his thrusting then paused, feeling her muscles clamp down on him. This let them both catch their breathe a bit. Then when he judged she had calmed down a bit, he slid his prick slowly in and out again. He ramped back up to his original, frenzied pace.

"Holy fuck," Cameron panted. "How are you doing that to me?"

He didn't give her the reply on his mind, that it was her doing amazing things to him. House pushed his hand between her and the couch; slipped his hand between her thighs so he could rub her clit.

He took it all in: the fast, rough way he disappeared into her; her creamy white back cascading over the sofa; the fact that Wilson would have to try to sleep here tonight—where he'd fucked her—probably while listening to Cameron's screams of pleasure as he had her again and again.

"Cameron."

"Yes," she answered, shakily.

"Come for me. Now."

"Oh my fucking god!" This time he let her climax rip his from him too; his yelling nearly matching hers.

After recovering a moment, softening inside her, he swung his leg down and pulled her up to kneel. He layback onto the couch, pulling her to lie between his splayed thighs, her back resting on his abs. He liked the feel of her weight on his body, the motion of her breathing. Between heavy pants she said, "We better get ready for work."

"You don't have any clean clothes," he reminded her.

"This is true."

"Therefore you'll have to go naked. Which would hardly fly in a hospital. Therefore we'll have to…work from home today."

She laughed, and ran her hands up and down his legs. "Yes please."

FIN

**Ficathon Prompt**:

For phineyj

Three things I'd like to see in my story:  
1. House/Wilson banter  
2. Cameron being confident  
3. Cameron surprising House

Three things I don't want anywhere near my story:  
1. Sex in broad daylight in the office  
2. References to ducklings...unless they're birds  
3. Anyone's tongues 'plundering', 'duelling' or 'tangling'

The sentence you have to work into your story is: "These can't really be yours." 


End file.
